


Silenced By the Night

by Magnetism_bind



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Apologies, Blowjobs, Established Relationship, Insecurity, M/M, Relationship Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 10:18:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9651578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: At my worst, I worry you’ll realize you deserve better.  At my best, I worry you won’t. (I’ve never been better.) - A Softer World promptBruce has some insecurities about his relationship with Clark.





	

The trouble with dating a god is that you will never measure up. Bruce knows this. He knew it in his gut when he and Clark had first started this. He knows it in his heart now.

The trouble with dating a god –

“Don’t call me that,” Clark whispers sleepily. “it sounds ridiculous.”

…is that they will never admit they are better than you in every respect. Bruce won’t admit it either, but that’s because he’s stubborn down to his bones. It doesn’t stop him from knowing it. In the small acts, the little moments. All the kindness, all the wonder that simply exists in Clark’s entire being, they’re simply beyond him. He will never be that much of anything; at times he is merely a remnant of himself as it is. Still fighting, because that’s what he has always done, and why stop now if you’re still good at it?

Clark exists differently. He sees Earth differently; of course he would. It’s just one planet when he’s seen the entire universe out there…

* * *

“Harder.” He breathes. “Harder.”

Clark grasps his shoulders, pushing him down. “What’s with you tonight?”

Bruce’s eyes are open, but his muscles are tense and he needs this, why won’t Clark just go with it? “Just move already.”

Finally Clark gives in and moves. His strength is a shield against Bruce’s back, protected even as he’s catapulted into bliss.

“Hey, Bruce…hey…” Clark kisses the back of his neck. “Are you okay?”

Bruce rolls out from under him and kisses him without answering.

* * *

Clark doesn’t move in.

“It doesn’t make sense. You’re out in the city. You need to be near the office.” Bruce says and Clark agrees, even if he seems a little disappointed that it’s settled so easily without more discussion.

“You could stay in the city more.” He suggests. “My apartment might not be a mansion of course, but I have coffee and a shower, and a bed."

“You know I need to be near _my_ office.” Bruce says without looking at him.

“Right.”

 * * *

If he lets Clark in, all the way, if Bruce lets him put his socks in a drawer, and his sneakers (who the fuck still wears sneakers, Clark fucking Kent, that’s who) in his closet and his toothbrush in the bathroom, then Bruce will never let him go.

And he has to be able to let Clark go, when Clark realizes this is all for nothing.

* * *

“Bruce?”

“Hmmm?” He looks up to see Clark watching him across the restaurant table. “Yeah?”

“Sometimes I think you’re the one who’s not from this planet.” Clark says quietly. It’s not even a joke.

“What?”

“I just asked about the Carstairs charity event and you didn’t even hear me.”

“So I didn’t hear you.” Bruce tosses the menu down on and sits back in his chair. “So what?”

“It’s a good cause.”

“They’re all good causes.” Every person is valuable. Every crime is important and the world never stops. The night never ends and he’s doing what he can but does it stem the tide, even a little? He doesn’t know anymore. He’s never done these days. 

And Clark deserves to be with someone who spends at least some of their time in the sun. Not a shadow of a man, whose whole life is spent in darkness, even during the daylight hours.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m not going.” Bruce says flatly. “Take Lois.” He takes a sip of his drink and ignores the look in Clark’s eyes as he picks up the menu again.

“All right.” Clark says. “I will.”

And he does.

* * *

“You’re gonna lose him if you don’t get your shit together.” Selina tells him over a drink.

Bruce shrugs his shoulders. He never meant to tell her about it anyway. Not that he really had. They had been careless. Selina had figured it out. She had seen Clarke leaving the mansion after a very public battle across the city in which Superman had aided Batman and put two and two together. 

_“You’re banging Superman.”_

_Bruce ignores her delight as he keeps shaving. “Stop breaking into my home, Selina.”_

_“The window was wide open.” She points out. In the mirror he watches her lean against the doorjamb, watching him back._

_“So you and Superman, huh?”_

_Bruce scrapes the razor over his jaw and keeps ignores her._

_“That must be….”_

_He tenses in spite of himself. This dangerous, snarky woman who has become an ally in spite of her thievery, in spite of everything, still has the power to prick a hole in his armor with just a few pointed words and the last thing he wants to hear is her opinion of their relationship._

_“….stressful.”_

_Bruce blinks. “How’d you draw that conclusion?”_

_“We’ve all dated people better than us, Bruce.” She drawls. “It’s not the most comfortable dynamic.”_

_“You don’t know anything about it.” Bruce glances over his shoulder at her._

_She widens her eyes playfully. “Why, Mr. Wayne. I do believe you’re in love.”_

_“Grow up.” Bruce turns back to the mirror._

_“You know I’m right, Bruce.” She fades back into the shadows, leaving Bruce alone with his thoughts._

_The damned thing is, she’s right. And he knows it. Even then he knew it._

Now, he just shrugs and Selina just looks at him.

“Why are you here having a drink with me instead of making up with your boyfriend?”

“What makes you think there’s anything to make up?”

“I read the tabloids, I know what goes on in this city.”

Bruce rolls his eyes.

Selina just rolls hers back at him. “And I know what you’re doing, thinking this will all die down if you just wait out and let it.”

“It’s worked before.”

“Stop being an idiot and go apologize. Besides I have other places to be than in a bar with a sad man who just won’t take advice.” She takes a final sip from her drink and rises from the table.

“Oh yeah?” Bruce eyes her. “Where are you off to?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Selina grins and kisses him on the cheek.

* * *

That night Clark comes home to his apartment. He unlocks the door and then locks it again behind him. For a second he stands there, just listening in the dark and then he flicks the light on.

“Is this unscheduled visit an apology or…”

Bruce rises from the chair he was waiting in. “Yes.”

Clark just stands there, waiting as Bruce goes to him.

“I’m sorry I was being a dick.”

“Which time?” Clark inquires mildly.

Bruce’s lips twitch in a smile. “This time.” He brushes them across Clark’s, and then down across his collarbone.

Clark draws in a breath as Bruce starts unbuttoning his shirt.

“We could move to the bedroom.” He suggests.

“We could.’ Bruce agrees as he presses a kiss over Clark’s left nipple. “Or we could stay right here.”

Clark’s breath is lost. “Bruce.”

His lips brush Clark’s stomach as he kneels. “Yes?”

“Nothing.”

This is the first time Bruce thinks he might be less than perfect. Clark was about to ask if he really wanted to do this, that he doesn’t have to do it because he feels guilty.

And he hadn’t.

Bruce unzips his jeans. Clark is also one of the few people who gets away with wearing jeans to the office. He snakes a hand inside Clark’s briefs and draws him out.

Clark’s hand cups the back of his head, just touching his hair. Bruce’s hand slides down his back, cupping his ass.

He closes his eyes. Clark’s hand strokes his hair, murmuring things. Bruce takes him deeper, making Clark’s breath come faster and faster until his grip tightens on Bruce’s hair.

And just when he’s about to give in, Clark pushes Bruce off.

Bruce sits back on his ankles, staring up at him. “What?”

“You always do this.” Clark stands there, hands on his hips, looking exasperated. How can someone with their dick sticking out look so morally indignant?

Bruce gets to his feet. “Sometimes a blowjob is just a blowjob, Clark.”

“And sometimes you’re doing…whatever this is, that you’re doing.”

Bruce points at him. “What am I doing?”

“Not letting me in.” Clark’s frustration forces the words out. “Pushing me away. That’s what you’re doing.”

“Funny, I thought we were doing the exact opposite there.”

“Just like that. You’re making it about this,” he gestures to his dick, “and not what it’s actually about.”

“Okay, enlighten me. What is it about then?” Bruce folds his arm across his chest.

“You tell me.” Clark fires back.

Like that’s supposed to mean something. Like he’s not the one making something out of nothing here.

Bruce reaches for his jacket which he had left over the back of a chair. “Let me know when you’re over whatever this is.”

“Tell me when you’re ready to have an adult conversation.”

Bruce has to laugh at that. Clark is years younger than him. He brushes past Clark and reaches for the door. “Whatever.”

“Bruce.”

He turns, hoping in spite of himself, that Clark will say something that allows him to stay. But when he looks back, Clark’s just standing there, looking defeated.

Bruce pauses, waiting still, still hoping.

“Look after yourself.”

Clark closes the door behind him, leaving Bruce on the outside.

* * *

He goes home, unsure of what to do next. Clark always accepts him, accepts his fumbling apologies. This is the first time it hasn’t worked and now Bruce doesn’t know what to do next.

What do you do when the god you love, rejects you?

* * *

Bruce can’t sleep. He doesn’t even bother with the farce of trying. His bed will be empty and somehow even his cave is lonely tonight. He gets his gear together and goes out to patrol the city.

It rained earlier. The scent lingers in the streets, puddles gathering in the gutters. He crouches on a ledge, searching the streets for any sign of trouble. God, just give him something to do tonight. His whole body feels restless.

There’s a breath of a breeze overhead and Bruce lets go of the batarang he had reached for automatically. There’s no threat tonight. Just an alien who doesn't know when to let things go.

“Guess you couldn’t sleep either huh?”

Bruce gets to his feet, counts to three and finally looks up. He hates looking up at Clark when he’s flying and Clark loves making him do it. _Showoff_ , Bruce thinks irritably.

Clark’s just hovering there in the air. He makes it look fucking effortless. His cape ripples slightly in the breeze. His body is light as a cloud; he looks like a prince of the sky. And Bruce loves him, even as he wishes Clark would just leave him alone.

“Evidently not.” He looks back over the city, folding his arms across his chest.

Clark sighs and comes to land on the rooftop behind him. “Can we please talk?” From the sound of his voice he probably has that pleading look to his eyes, the one that makes Bruce willing to do anything for him. Clark doesn’t even know he does it, doesn’t know the power he holds. That’s the whole fucking point.

“I don’t know if I’m feeling grownup enough for you.” Bruce says without looking at him.

Clark sighs and moves closer. “I’m sorry I said that.”

“Don’t apologize to me.” Bruce shakes his head. “Just don’t.”

There’s a tentative arm around his waist and he stands stiffly for a moment, before he relaxes a fraction and Clark takes it for the encouragement that it is to put his arms all the way around him. He presses his face against the back of Bruce’s cowl, which cannot be remotely comfortable but he does it anyway.

“I just wish you would let me in.” Clark whispers. “I want so much for you to let me in, Bruce. I love you.”

Bruce’s gut clenches. Every time Clark says those words he can hardly stand it.

“I know you don’t like hearing that,” Clark murmurs. “I know you don’t really believe me.”

And that Bruce just can’t take. He can’t bear the thought of Clark thinking he’s not believed. He turns and, _god_ , Clark’s right there. Even in the dark of the city lights his eyes burn with sincerity.

“I believe you.” Bruce says. He can feel the moment Clark’s accepts the words. His whole body relaxes and his arms tighten around Bruce’s waist.

They’re just standing there on top of a roof, city lights below, dark sky above.

“But I –“

“Don’t.” Clark presses closer. “I know it’s cowardly of me, but for tonight, don’t? Whatever excuse you’re gonna give me, whatever reason you think is worth not giving this a real chance…can you give it to me tomorrow?”

Bruce blinks. “And in the meantime?”

“Come back to my apartment?” Clark’s gaze is pleading again. “Come home with me?”

 _Don’t do that_ , Bruce wants to say. _Don’t give me that. I’m not worth it._

But he doesn’t say it. Not tonight.

Tonight he lets Clark sweep him up in his arms and soar off into the night sky. He shouldn’t but he does. He lets Clark take him home and they undress, slowly, taking their time to kiss each other, even more slowly and heatedly, as their clothes fall to the floor and they fall into bed.

Clark is a god when naked, Clark is a god at all times. Clark is always a god.

But even if he were human, he’d always be a better man. Bruce buries his face into Clark’s hair and breathes deep. He will never tire of this, never take it for granted, never be worthy. He knows this.

“I love you far too dearly to reconcile myself with the knowledge that I will lose you one day.” He whispers into Clark’s sleeping ear. “And even worse is the possibility that you’ll let this drag on when you should have ended it long ago. Every day that knowledge kills me, and every night the ghost of it haunts me still.”

He kisses Clark’s hair. “And I can’t accept it.” He closes his eyes and lets himself enjoy the warmth of Clark’s body next to his a little while longer.

Morning will come all too soon.

* * *

In the morning Bruce lets himself lie there, lets himself enjoy what little time he has left.

Clark rolls over and smiles at him. “See how nice this is? Waking up together?” He kisses Bruce’s shoulder. “It could be like this all the time.”

 _No, it can’t_. Bruce keeps this thought to himself as he lets himself be distracted under the covers. It can never be like this.

Clark pokes his head out from under the sheets to look at him. “What?”

“What?” Bruce echoes.

“You just said ‘it can never be like this.’ Why would you say something like that?”

“I didn’t…I was just thinking.” Bruce starts to sit up.

Clark moves up to kneel on the bed in front of him, just staring at him. “Do you really think that?”

It would have been nice to have one more morning together, Bruce reflects. But clearly it’s just not meant to be. He pushes himself up to sit against the headboard.

“How long do think this is going to last?” He asks gently. He doesn’t want to hurt Clark any more than necessary. At the same time, if Clark finally understands, it’ll probably be for the best.

Clark just leans in, “As long as we love each other.” He cups Bruce’s face in his hands and kisses him. “As long as we want it to, Bruce.”

“It doesn’t work like that.” Bruce murmurs.

“It does if we want it to.” Clark kisses him again. “So whatever reason to end this you’re thinking of, just let it go.”

“What if it’s a good reason?” Bruce whispers.

Clark’s eyes are like blue skies on a sunny day. When Bruce looks at him, it’s like he’s walking in sunlight and he doesn’t deserve it.

“Even a good reason isn’t enough.” Clark pulls back enough to gaze at Bruce. “I love you, Bruce. Can you just let me love you?”

Bruce draws in a breath, to say something, to say what he needs to, to make Clark understand what he’s doing here, but Clark’s eyes pierce him straight to the heart.

“I can try.”

He’ll never be good enough for Clark; maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe the only thing that matters is the way Clark looks at him. Like out of the whole universe, this is the only place he wants to be.


End file.
